


Let me be there for you

by Mahrteen



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Asexual Character, Canon Divergence, Cuddling, Domesticity, Gen, Kissing, M/M, Martin Blackwood Needs a Hug, Mid-Season 2, Not Beta Read, POV Martin Blackwood, arospec jon, martin needs a hug too sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28096863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mahrteen/pseuds/Mahrteen
Summary: It's fluff. Just fluff. It's just words one after another that make up something that resembles a fic bit is actually just me projecting on everyone from this goddamn podcast that has taken over my life.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, jonathan "jon" sims | the archivist & martin blackwood
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62





	Let me be there for you

**Author's Note:**

> Non-native, not beta-read, I am just a bean with a computer

He has nightmares, sometimes. He tries to soldier through, to stay still until his breathing has slowed down and the tears have stopped threatening to fall from his eyes. He doesn’t want to wake Jon, God knows he needs the rest, and he has his own fair share of nightmares to deal with, asleep or awake alike.   
He waits until he is in control of himself again, then curls up against Jon, his warmth reassuring, his quiet breathing lulling him back to sleep.   
  
Jon’s nightmares are way worse. He wakes up screaming most nights, clutching at Martin like his life depends on it, and maybe it does. Martin holds him until he calms down enough to stop sobbing, until the shaking subsides and he is mostly himself again. Martin doesn’t ask what he’s seen, and Jon doesn’t tell. There’s no need. He murmurs “I’m here, I’m here” like a mantra in Jon’s ear until they fall asleep again together, holding each other like shields against the monsters that lurk just behind their closed eyelids.   
  
It’s not always easy to just lay there and regain control. Some nights are harder than others, and he is thankful that he does not sleep on the side of the bed that’s pushed against the wall, so he can get up and walk quietly to the kitchen without risking to disturb Jon. He stands in the kitchen and looks outside, taking in the dark patch of sky and the handful of stars he can see from the window. The moon has set hours ago, and the darkness is pitch black and perfect. He puts on the kettle out of habit, the repetitive motions soothing in themselves. The warmth from the cup eases the chill deep in his bones. He drinks his tea in silence, lost in thought.   
  
“Martin?” Jon sounds drowsy. Martin turns around and sees him standing in the doorway, still half asleep. His hair is tousled and he is wearing one of Martin’s shirts. Martin thinks he’s never seen anything cuter, but he knows better than to say it. Jon is never sleepy enough to take a compliment.    
“Sorry, Jon, I didn’t want to wake you.”   
“You alright?”   
“Yeah, fine. Just a dream.”   
Jon studies him, slightly more awake. He doesn’t believe him, and Martin can’t blame him. He knows how he must look, standing alone in the cold kitchen in the middle of the night.   
Jon crosses the room and goes to stand next to him. Martin relaxes instantly, as soon as Jon enters his space. It’s like Jon’s mere presence has a calming effect on him. He chuckles to himself, thinking about the days when he could barely put three words together whenever Jon was nearby. Jon notices his smile, and smiles in return, then takes his hand.   
“Let’s go back to bed, love.”   
_ Love.  _ Martin doesn’t think he will ever get used to hearing that word in Jon’s voice, let alone used to refer to him. Every time is like the first, and he can feel himself blush. He lets Jon guide him out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom.   
  
They lay together in Martin’s soft bed, surrounded by the familiar sounds of the flat, listening to each other breathe. It’s Jon who breaks the silence first.   
“Martin?”   
“Hm?”   
“Why didn’t you tell me you were having nightmares as well?”   
Martin doesn’t answer at first. He takes a breath.   
“You have enough on your plate.”   
“Martin.” Jon’s voice is stern.   
“Jon.”   
“ _ You  _ are the most important thing on my plate right now.”    
Martin feels the blush creep up to his face again. He is glad that the room is dark.    
“‘Twas not what I meant,” he grumbles.   
“But I did. If you have nightmares, I want to know. I want to be there for you, like you are for me. Please, don’t go through this alone.”   
“It’s not like my dreams are as bad as yours.”   
“This is not a competition, Martin.” Jon searches for his hand in the dark, and squeezes it hard. “Please.”   
Jon turns on the small light on the bedside table. The room is filled with warm, yellow light. He looks intensely at Martin, his eyes so black that Martin can’t tell iris from pupil. He loves those eyes. He thinks they’re the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen.    
“What?” Jon sounds a little embarrassed.   
“I just… I love you, Jon.”   
It’s Jon’s turn to blush, now. He passes a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture, and smiles sheepishly.   
Martin catches his hand and brings his finger to his lips, kissing them softly.    
“Martin…”   
“Ok, ok. I promise. I will tell you when I have nightmares. I will.”   
“Thank you, love.”   
Jon leans over to kiss him, in his awkward, hesitant way. It’s always like he’s not sure he is allowed, and Martin finds it incredibly endearing.   
He closes the short distance that separates them, and feels Jon sigh when their lips meet.

  
He runs his fingers through Jon’s hair, feeling each strand, moving to his face, then caressing his neck delicately. He can feel the small scars under his fingers, pockmarks that remind him of the first time he almost lost Jon. He breaks the kiss and pulls Jon into his arms, in an embrace so tight that it leaves them both breathless.   
Jon feels so small in his arms. Martin wishes he could just hold him and protect him forever. He kisses the top of Jon’s head, inhaling the scent of his shampoo.    
“Are you ok, love?”   
“Yes, fine. Just… I guess that dream shook me more than I thought.”   
“Come here.” Jon lays down and gestures for Martin to lie beside him. Martin rests his head on Jon’s chest, his arm and leg draped over Jon. He hears Jon’s heartbeat. It’s strong and steady.   
“Would you like to talk about it?”   
Martin closes his eyes, trying to keep the afterimage from his last dream away. It was Jon, it’s always Jon. Hurt, bleeding or, even worse, completely unscathed but… gone. An empty shell that looks like Jon but  _ feels  _ nothing like him, eyes cold, smile gone.    
Jon holds him and waits, caressing his back. Martin takes a deep breath and shakes his head.   
“I… I don’t think I can. I’m sorry, Jon, I…”   
Jon hushes him and kisses his forehead.   
“It’s ok, love. I understand.”   
  
He falls asleep like that, his ear still over Jon’s heart, Jon’s hair tickling his face, his arm over Jon’s chest. He doesn’t dream.


End file.
